


Sweets to the Sweet

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: Fatalistic Fortunes [1]
Category: Transformers, Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're sweet," Blackout said, and his voice was rough from disuse. "I knew I was right to ask Lord Megatron for you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweets to the Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Stories from the [Transformers 2007 Movie Random Pairing Generator](http://www.freewebs.com/tfgenerators/TF2007generator1.html)

* * *

**Prompt: Ratchet / Blackout / Mouth**

* * *

 

He offlined his optics and listened to the medic scream, the Autobot's throat components grinding together to create one long, low moan that made Blackout shudder, his dermal plates heat, his spark twitch and pulse inside of him.

Removing his fingertips from the medic's shoulder seam, he watched the energon slowly sliding down the joints of his hand. Optics on Ratchet's, he ran his glossa up one finger, catching and swallowing the fluid. Then he reached for the medic's face, traced his chin, found his mouth, the lip plates and ran wet fingers across them before forcing two inside, stroking the other mech's warm glossa; Ratchet's throat convulsed in a swallow as he tasted his own energon.

"You're sweet," Blackout said, and his voice was rough from disuse. "I knew I was right to ask Lord Megatron for you." He stroked the medic's optic ridge, ran his other hand along his own chest plates, shuddering slightly as they teased the center seam.

"Ironhide..." The medic's voice was faint and his dimly lit optics flickered as Blackout backhanded him.

"You say  _his_  name?" the larger mech hissed, leaning his brow against the medic's. "What did I tell you?"

Blackout raised his hand again, raked claws over the green and yellow chest plates, peeling curls of paint. The medic squirmed within the ties that bound him to the berth as Blackout changed tactics in one swift movement, stroking the components along the Autobot's side that sent Ratchet's chest plates, and then the casing of his spark chamber, sliding back.

"I've told you. Again and Again. The only name you'll be saying is mine."

Blackout thrust his fingers into the medic's chest, into the spark chamber and Ratchet howled, terrible, unrestrained,  _beautiful_ , the sound echoing through the room, ending in a few choked syllables that may have been the beginning of a plea, may have been a name, but he offlined before Blackout could be sure.

Blackout stroked the edges of the medic's spark casing, almost as an afterthought, and murmured, watching the Autobot's optics dim, "The only one you'll be screaming for, is me."

 


End file.
